Drabbles etc
by Garm88
Summary: Sometimes I get some crazy ass ideas in my head that I just have to write down, and this is the place that I share them with you. I'm sorry, but you must have done something to deserve it.
1. The Birthday

I own none of the IPs represented in this collection of ramblings. If I did, they would be much more interesting and I wouldn't be attending school.

I wrote this one in response to all the fics about how Tonks falls in love with Harry for thinking that her "base form" is beautiful. Frankly, I don't think Tonks is that fucked up psychologically to not want to have fun with her powers, or only think she can love someone if they don't like her "base form", whatever the fuck that is.

The Advantages of Dating a Metamorph

Harry was wandering around Grimmauld Place after his birthday party had finally wound down, trying to lose some energy, and work off his buzz, before going to spend some quality time with his girlfriend. And by quality time he meant sex.

It was a curious thing, his relationship with Nymphadora (she was hot as hell when she got mad), after things with Remus fell through for her, and Ginny for him, they just naturally slid together. Like two pieces of a puzzle that had just been waiting for the perfect moment to connect. They were both a little starved for affection in their lives. Him because of where he grew up and her because of who her family was. The fact that she was descended from the Black family was no secret when she was going to school, and made it difficult to make friends in the sort of circles that she wanted them in. On the flip side it made the other circles _really_ interested in her.

It didn't hurt that she was complete filth in the sack and he was a hormonal seventeen years old.

It also didn't hurt that they wouldn't have to sneak around to have sex anymore. Not that they would stop, bending her over the Tom Marvolo Riddle trophy, under the invisibility cloak, with a weak silencing charm mid-day had been fun. They'd done that three more times afterwards.

And was it _his _fault that his girlfriend could make herself look like the Head Girl in order to sneak him around after curfew? And was it _his_ fault that, technically, he'd slept with Hermione before Ron had even gotten to first base? He didn't think so. Metamorphmagus's had to have very active imaginations, and dear Nymphadora was no slouch in that regard.

Sirius had been ecstatic to find out his favorite cousin _and_ favorite godson had gotten together. His words. After Harry had gone and dragged his ass out of the portal to the underworld (his only explanation for that phenomenon had been "I'm the Master of Death, bitch" which left many Unspeakables envious), he had found out that his Godfather had only been stunned. He had proceeded to slap him awake and clear his name with a captured and drugged up Peter Pettigrew, before making fun of him for a week straight.

So here he was, the summer before his Seventh year at Hogwarts, on the morning of August the 1st, slowly making his way to his room, and his girlfriend, to find out what the surprise she hinted at when he and Neville were opening gifts was. The impish little grin she had been sporting when she told him he would get his gift later promised untold pleasures, and he was just giving her time to get ready.

Finally coming to the top landing, and opening door to the second largest bedroom in the house (Sirius had taken the Master bedroom over), he gently shouldered the door open and closed it behind him. Groping for a moment for the light switch, he flipped it on and stopped dead.

There, in his bed were the Patil sisters. But he must have been a little drunk from the party the night before, because he could have sworn his brain was telling him there was one more than there should have been. Harry took his glasses off and cleaned them, before rubbing his eyes and perching them back on his nose. Squinting at the bed he turned the light off and back on before finally saying "holy shit".

Three identical giggles greeted him.

They were wearing white thigh high lace stockings with matching garters and French knickers. Their brassieres were also white and see-through, and boy could he see through them, all three were pointing at him, and their hands were wrapped around each other. They all stood and sauntered over to him, their dancer's physiques, still with all the right curves, were moving almost like liquid sex across the floor. Six identical hands proceeded to rub his shoulders and chest while unbuttoning his shirt. Three identical voices, all at the same time, said "Happy Birthday, Harry" in a combined voice that almost made him pass out. He held on though, if only to try and find out which one was his girlfriend, and for the pride of men everywhere.


	2. Hate

Disclaimer: I do not own, nor am I profiting from, any of the characters mentioned in the following.

Hate

Or

Ten Reasons why Ginny Weasley Hates Susan Bones

Ginny Weasley hated Susan Bones with every fiber of her being. Now, if she told this to someone right out of the blue they would probably look at her like she was crazy. No one could come up with a legitimate reason to hate Susan Bones, not even the bigots of the Slytherins, seeing as yelling "She's a filthy blood traitor!" doesn't count as legitimate.

Now this begs the question, just why did Ginny Weasley hate Susan Bones with such passion?

The tenth reason, she would list, would be the fact that unlike her, Susan Bones did not stop developing in the chest area at the age of twelve, those damn things on her chest were obvious even while wearing the bulky robes of a Hogwarts student.

Ninth would be that, also unlike Ginny Weasley, Susan Bones had some nice womanly curves on the bottom half as well, though her tummy was as trim as anyone could wish for and there was no excess padding or baby fat.

Eighth on the list would be the fact that, unlike Ginny Weasley, Susan Bones' hair was a deep, lustrous red instead of something that looked like it got its coloring from an Orangutan.

Seventh she would profess is the fact that unlike her own, Susan Bones' lips were fully and plump, and looked amazing when she pouted.

Sixth absolutely had to be that her bright, clear blue eyes always seemed to be so damn fully of life and laughter, she hated those eyes.

Fifth could quite possibly be that, unlike one Ginny Weasley, Susan Bones came from money. Her Aunt was the director of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement and pulled down more in a month than Arthur Weasley made in a whole year along with all of the traditional Bones investment s that included Dragon Hide armor. The Bones women, while fighting for the side of the Light in the war, had still made huge profits even while cutting their prices to make replacing vests that had been hit with powerful curses easier on Aurors and wealthy non Death Eater Purebloods. No one could accuse Susan Bones of being a gold digger.

Fourth would have to be the fact that Susan Bones was only behind two other girls in her cohort for grades, them being Padma Patil and Hermione Granger. Ginny, while generally getting good marks, was currently ranked at the twelfth spot for females in her own.

Third certainly would be that unlike Ginny herself, Susan Bones didn't seem to have a jealous bone in her body. Harry had made friends with quite a few young women ever since he had vanquished the Dark Lord, not limited to and including Daphne Greengrass, Padma Patil, Tracy Davis and Parvati Patil. Ginny didn't think that she would be able to stand her boyfriend being anywhere near any one of those females un-chaperoned, and she had seen him in their company unescorted numerous times.

Second could be the fact that, right at this moment directly across from her was one Susan Bones, who was busy snuggling up too, and leaning her head on one Harry Potter's shoulder. That damn skirt clinging to her like a second skin and showing off a fantastic yet tasteful amount of toned leg, the blasted sweater that hugged her figure like a wetsuit (Hermione had shown her pictures from her vacation to the Mediterranean) and those damn shoes that undoubtedly made her bum look amazing.

First, Ginny would be able to decide without any hesitation in her mind would have to be the antique and exceedingly expensive and beautiful Clan Potter engagement ring that was currently adorning her finger, and how whenever it glittered in the light it would tease her and taunt her, telling her "this could have been you, and you threw it all away".

Ginny scowled as she watched Harry lean over and whisper something into Susan's ear which prompted her to jump to her feet, sending her prominent assets jiggling in a way that would make Ron stare at her like she was made out of pie, and pull him to his feet. Laughing quietly, the couple proceeded to exit out of the portrait hole, oh how she wished she was there instead of that bitch Bones.

"Harry, Ginny is staring at me with more hate than I've seen since Neville blew of Bellatrix's head."

Harry Potter grinned down at his Fiancé and lightly nipped her earlobe, "well, how about we get out of here and do something that would give her the emotions needed to perform an Avada Kedavra if she saw it?"

Laughter and lust dancing in her eyes, Susan leapt to her feet and held her hand out for Harry to take, delighting in the way that his eyes darkened and greedily soaked in her form. Pulling him up and leading him from the Gryffindor Common Room on a path to the Room of Requirement, fending off his roaming hands with pleased shudders surprised squeaks.

Susan Bones knew that Ginny Weasley hate her with a burning passion, she on the other hand couldn't thank the girl enough. If Ginny had refused to break up with Harry at the end of his Sixth year, before the summer came and Harry killed the Dark Lord at Bill and Fluer's wedding, she never would have gotten the opportunity to ask him over to her place for lunch, without that opportunity she never would have figured out that Harry is an absolute demon in the sack on top of being the sweetest man on the face of the Earth and thus clung on to him as tight as she could.

Susan Bones had a lot to thank Ginny Weasley for.


	3. The Luggage

I own none of the IPs represented in this collection of ramblings. If I did, I wouldn't be attending school.

This is my take on the "Harry gets an insanely magical trunk" plot device.

* * *

An eleven year old Harry Potter peeked his had around the corner of the, extremely well protected, Potter family vault and looked at the solitary piece of Luggage sitting there. He didn't know why, but for some reason calling it "luggage" wouldn't have been appropriate, it demanded the capital "L".

He glanced back at the absolutely terrified Goblin cowering in the cart behind him. "Griphook, shouldn't there be more in there?"

The Goblin flinched at hearing his name and huddled a little lower "No!" came the high pitch reply "No, that's it! That's all that's ever been in the Potter vault!"

Harry turned back and immediately jumped backwards. Sitting right in front of him, innocent as can be, was the Luggage. The Luggage that had, until he'd turned around, been a dozen meters back inside the vault.

"Well," Harry mused "if you're part of my family's estate then you must be important, mustn't you?"

He vaguely wondered if he should be feeling foolish for talking to a perfectly normal, if, for some reason, highly intimidating looking trunk. For the life of him, he couldn't shake off the feeling that it completely understood what he was saying.

"So," the new student continued, "can you follow me out of here?"

In response dozens of tiny legs sprouted from the underside of the trunk, and Harry got the distinct feeling that this is what having an exceptionally intelligent dog would be like. Only something told him no dog could ever match what the Luggage promised.

The terrified squeal that came from the bottom of the mine cart drove that home.

* * *

So, the Luggage comes to Hogwarts and pretty much runs roughshod over all of JKR's convoluted plot points and Voldemort's mustache twirling style evil schemes. Terrorizing Snape and Draco are a must. Dumbledore can be either an evil overlord (which frankly. I'm getting tired of seeing, but its up to the author)_ or an old man who has had the weight of the world on his shoulders for a inordinately long amount of time.

The Luggage in this story is the oldest heirloom of the Potter family, dating back to their origins in the founding of the Roman Empire, to and unbroken line of descendants all the way to the modern day Potters (suck on that, Malfoys). It stores the entirety of the Potter Fortune that _isn't_ in Harry's trust vault, and only coughs up gold for paying fees and services (which is magically transferred to the Potter's pocket/money bag/whatever), all money earned by the Potter family is magically transported into its limitless depths. If anyone wants to take this and run with it, I enthusiastically encourage you to do so.

If no one knows what The Luggage _is_ then google the Discworld wiki and look it up. You barbarian.


	4. Dumbledore Does His Job

Disclaimer: I own none of the Intellectual Properties displayed in these ramblings.

AN: So I've had this thought for a while now, that Evil! or Manipulative!Dumbledore is way, way over done to the point of almost lunacy. It got so old that I decided to write this out as a kind of counter-point Dumbledore, a Professional! or NotSuperManipulativeJackass!Dumbledore. Should be fun.

One-Shot

If Dumbledore Did His Job

* * *

Albus Dumbledore sighed as the tiny little first year, Harry Potter, nervously scooted into his office. He'd noticed something off about the child the very first time he had set eyes on him in over a decade during the sorting of the First Years. The abuse was pretty much written on Harry's face and body language. Maybe not physical abuse, he didn't seem to carry himself with any long healed injuries, he couldn't detect any scars on his back through the child's shirt, not currently covered by a robe. But mental and emotional abuse, those were the types that were damaging. Scars could heal, mental scars could last a lifetime. The Headmaster had been an educator for almost his entire life, he'd seen plenty of abused children come through Hogwarts' hallowed halls, and Harry Potter carried some hallmarks of some very serious mental anguish.

Putting the twinkle back into his eye, he looked the nervous little boy in the eyes and held up a candy dish "Lemon Drop?"

The tiny first year in front of him cracked a small grin and leaned forward to take a candy. Albus considered this to be a great victory.

"Harry" he continued "I called you here to ask about your first week of school, and maybe some other questions. How are you adjusting to Hogwarts?"

Albus smiled as the child in front of him went into great detail about his first week at the boarding school. The Headmaster knew that Harry was glossing over a lot of details, about how the vast majority of the students couldn't seem to get enough of staring at his scar, how whispers followed him in the hallways and the like. He knew because he was using Legilimency to scan Harry's surface thoughts. Normally the Headmaster wouldn't do this, he believed that people's private thoughts were sacred, but in abuse cases, it had to be done.

"I noticed you didn't mention anything about your first Potions class? How was that?"

Harry momentarily hesitated before tentatively replying that they were fun, for the most part. It took most of Albus' considerable willpower not to frown mightily at what Harry's thoughts revealed as to the behavior of Professor Snape. He had hoped, for the most part, that in the almost fifteen years since Severus Snape had last seen James Potter, that the man would be able to finally move on from what was, mostly, a few pranks and a small feud. One that Severus had actually started, if Albus was remembering that class's opening feast correctly. He would have to have a talk with Severus. A very severe talk, he amended when Harry thought of the part of the lesson where Severus blamed him, Harry, for Neville Longbottom's mistake. Perhaps a suspension from his head of house duties would be a nice wakeup call to the dour professor.

Harry sat there apprehensively, wondering what was coming next and valiantly fought the almost overwhelming desire to visually explore the Headmaster's office. He was dearly hoping that he wouldn't be sent back to the Dursley's. "_I don't think I could stand going back to their house after being here, I'd probably run away within the week."_

Albus caught Harry's latest train of thought and couldn't help but feel anger starting to course through him. "And how about your home life, Harry, how are your Aunt and Uncle treating you?" He was curious as to what the response would be, and started to slightly dread it as a miniscule wince overtook the boy's body momentarily.

Dumbledore started to get more and more concerned the longer young Harry talked. The way the child was describing his home life obviously put the Dursley's in the best possible light, but Albus could see Harry's thoughts behind his words. He could see the cupboard, he could feel Dudley's fists, and he could sense Harry's distress at his Aunt and Uncle's words. It took all of his willpower not to storm from the Castle grounds in a rage. But he had over a century and a half to learn how to control himself.

Albus cleared his throat and gave Harry a kind smile "Thank you for coming to visit me, Mr. Potter" he said as he wrote something on a bit of parchment "take this note with you and return to your common room, it is getting quite late and while you do have the weekend off, you'll undoubtedly need the rest for your first week of homework."

Harry nervously returned the Headmaster's smile and scampered out of the office.

Albus sighed deeply and steepled his fingers in front of him on his desk. He spent the next half hour going over everything Harry had told and unconsciously shown him, whether he wanted to or not. Taking a large breath through his nose and letting it out through his mouth, the Headmaster got to his feet and went over to his office fire place. Taking a pinch of Floo Powder he tossed it into the fire and called out "Potions Master Office". This was going to be a long and uncomfortable evening for Severus Snape, that was for sure.

* * *

AN: If anyone wants to take this and run with it, go ahead, just give credit where credit is due.


	5. Daphne Greengrass: Social Butterfly One

Disclaimer: I own none of the Intellectual Properties displayed in this collection of ramblings.

Daphne Greengrass: Social Butterfly

Break

Fifteen year old Daphne Greengrass happily skipped down the halls of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry with a grin on her face, waving at her friends and acquaintances as she went. Wandering into the Library she spotted one of the only people on Hogwarts that she didn't know personally.

Break

Harry Potter was sitting at a private table, pouring over a massive tome on defensive magic, trying to find the next best thing to teach the DA at the next meeting. He'd discovered since the start of the, for lack of a better word, classes, that he was somewhat ridiculously talented in combat magic, and that not everyone was able to do the things that he was capable of.

A thump sounded from across the table at the only other chair that he didn't bother investigating, having expected Hermione for a while now.

"Hey Harry!" said a smoky voice he didn't recognize, causing him to look up at the beautiful form of a girl with deep, almost scarlet red hair, darkly tanned skin, open Hogwarts robes showing off her substantial chest and a smile that would weaken Voldemort's resolve "we've never spoken even though we've had classes together for five years now, I'm Daphne Greengrass!" the girl said, extending her hand with what could only be described as a zest for life.

Cautiously reaching forward, Harry gripped her smaller hand in his rough calloused one and firmly shook, causing her pretty face to light up even more "nice to meet you, Daphne, I apologize if this sounds rude, but I've been wary of making friends with Slytherins after my first two meetings with Draco Malfoy, it is a pleasure, however."

"I've noticed that, but don't worry, Draco's like a small dog, he barks loudly and often, but when he gets annoying you just kick him across the room and he shuts up."

Harry stared at her in frank surprise, both at the fact that she'd said this and the blatant, almost airy tone she'd used, before he burst out laughing, earning a solid "shushing" from Madame Pince.

"I never thought I'd see the day where a Slytherin openly insults Draco Malfoy to a Gryffindor!" he managed to gasp out, earning himself an impish little grin.

"Yes, well, Draco likes to think that he has a lot of influence because of his father, and he does over certain, extremely vocal, students in the Radical Isolationist faction, but outside of it he's more annoying than anything."

"You're not afraid that Lucius might hurt your family?" Harry asked, earning himself an impossibly cheerful snort of disdain.

"Hardly, the Malfoys may like to think they're the most influential people in the Magical World, but that's only true for Britain. The Greengrasses, Davises, Zabinis, Boneses, Abbotts, Changs, Lis, Patils and many other families are much larger and have vast holdings on the continent and in the Americas and Asias, the Potters included. The Malfoys of Britain are a small offshoot of the larger family from France, the Delacours, with whom they don't even share a last name anymore. Malfoy does mean "Bad Faith", after all."

Harry, who'd gone back to perusing the tome during her explanation, looked back up sharply at the mention of his family "I have family outside of Britain?"

Daphne gave him a cutely inquisitive look of incomprehension before a dawning look of understanding appeared on her face "you've never contacted your family in Italy, Russia or the Americas?"

Harry was looking even more alarmed at that question "I never even knew I had any more family!" he yelped, earning Daphne and himself a rapid expulsion from the library.

After the scramble and scuffle to get out with all of their belongings and to dodge swipes from Madame Pince's feathered duster, Harry glanced back at the impossibly cheerful girl standing next to him and was shocked by the look of cold fury on her face. "Come along, Harry" she commanded in such a way that had him following instinctively "we have some letters to write."

"Er, wh- who are we writing to?"

"My father, who is the head of the British Greengrasses, and hopefully your great uncle however-many-times removed who's the head of the Potters in Italy."

"So- so I really have family on the continent?"

Daphne gave an elegant snort, if such a thing was possible, and tossed her deep red hair over her shoulder before giving Harry a look that made him feel somewhat like a child "the Potter family is one of the oldest and most powerful families in the Magical World, Harry" she started as she set a brisk pace down the hall "they made their money during the rise of the Roman Empire, but they've been around a long while before that, by using their unmatched skills in magical pottery to make nigh indestructible containers for shipping spices, herbs, liquids and dangerous potions by sea. Ceramics are by far the most difficult thing in known existence to enchant because of their fantastic insulating properties and the Potter family found out how, and hasn't shared that secret with _anyone _for _thousands_ of years."

Harry had a stunned look on his face as he walked beside the furious looking Slytherin, just absorbing information on his family as they walked "in fact, the Potters have a very long standing alliance with the Patil family of India, one of the reasons Parvati accepted your invitation to the Yule Ball last year, also, undoubtedly, one of the reasons she's still mad at you for completely snubbing her at the aforementioned Ball" the girl paused for breath and glanced at the stunned teen next to her "you might want to consider apologizing, Parvati and Padma are the favored great, great grandnieces of the current Patriarch of the Patil family by a _very_ large margin, enlightening them of your woeful ignorance could very well have massive positive repercussions outside of Britain for both of your families."

"Why… why are you telling me this?"

Daphne gave him a gentle smile that completely transformed her face from the cold visage she'd had since they exited the library back to the warm, welcoming expression that it almost always wore "you didn't think that the Patils were the only family the Potters had an economic and social alliance with, did you?"

Harry's only response to this was a weak "oh…." looking back at the redhead walking next to him he continued "I'm sorry if my being ignorant made your life at Hogwarts harder than it should have been."

Daphne gave a light airy laugh that sent a tingle through Harry's body and gently slapped his shoulder "don't worry about it, Harry, I'm just disappointed in myself that I didn't notice your ignorance earlier" her face quickly shifted back to the cold, expressionless mask that she'd worn earlier "when I find out who was responsible for it, however, I can guarantee that the full might of the Greengrass-Patil-Potter-Bones conglomerate will come down on their heads like the fist of an angry God."

The frozen certainty in her voice sent a shudder down Harry's spine, and he suddenly realized that this was a girl that had been raised in an environment of immeasurable social and economic power, and she knew exactly what type of resources were at her disposal. "So" he started back up hesitantly "just how big is my family, and why don't more of them live in Britain?"

"Oh, as of World War II there were a couple dozen in Britain, almost all of them men, and almost all of them served in either the mundane or magical armies opposing the Axis. The Potters never took up the purely Victorian Era British custom of banishing the squibs from the island, so many of your however many great uncles however far removed fought in the trenches and in the Air Corps, a great many of them didn't come back, and the ones that did didn't survive much longer after that. I believe your Grandfather, Charlus, was a full Colonel when he retired."

A sly look came over Daphne's face as she continued "as for why more of them don't live here, believe it or not, but Britain is considered quaint and provincial by the standards of the rest of the Magical World. It has only existed as a cohesive, united society for a little under a thousand years. Magical Rome has been around for almost three millennia, and Magical Asia has been around for even longer than that. As far as magical innovation and infrastructure goes, Britain is an underdeveloped backwater, a little like the United States, only they're progressing faster because of how closely linked their Magical and Mundane governments are, whereas the Ministry here tries to separate itself from the Crown as much as possible, and the Minister is fairly autonomous. There are two leaders in Britain, but America only ever has one President at a time. Don't even get me started on what a crap hole Canada and some of South America is. This is also one of the reasons why Voldemort was allowed such free reign during his last uprising, he's small fish compared to most of the others out there."

Harry got a contemplative look on his face, now that so much of the information and shock he'd gotten over the past quarter hour had been processed, he sent a questioning, examining look at the beauty walking next to him "how do you know all of this?" he asked as she opened a door to what looked like a shared office, and he suddenly realized that they were in a part of the castle he'd never bothered to explore.

Ushering him inside, the redhead got that impish grin back on her face and a twinkle, eerily reminiscent of a certain Headmaster, entered her eyes "because, silly, we were supposed to get married."

Harry's exclamation of "Bloody hell!" was cut off as the door closed with a snap.

Break


	6. Severus Snape: Dork Lord

Severus Snape cackled as he regarded his newest creation. It was beautiful, it was perfect, it was an almost identical copy of one Lily Evans (He REFUSED to think of her as a Potter). Rubbing his hands together, Severus giggled maniacally as he poured on the last activation potion.

It wasn't a perfect copy; the skin was as hard as stone and the hair the same, but it would be enough to lure that arrogant fool Potter into Knockturn Alley to be disposed of. It had Lily's personality, tonal inflection and proportions down exactly, the perfect lure.

Dropping a portkey onto the golem, he snickered again and whipped his greasy hair out of his eyes. Tomorrow there would be news in the Prophet about the death, and he could swoop in and console his sweet Lily on her loss.

XxXxX

Lily Potter looked on in confusion as an exact copy of her massaged her husband's feet, wondering where it came from.

"Sweetie?" Best take this slow, she had no idea what James and his twisted friends would come up with.

"Yes dear?"

"Where did that... me... come from?"

"I got no idea" James started, only to be cut off by a groan as the golem found another spot on his heel "but it gives amazing foot massages."

"So Sirius didn't cook it up to prank you?"

"Nope, cleared him."

"Remus?"

"Still recovering from the full moon."

"Not Peter?"

"Naw, animation was never his strong suit."

"It's not harmful to Harry and June, is it?"

"Nope, played with them for a half hour earlier this morning."

"_So that's why it was so quiet earlier..."_

"Okay dear, but I'm next."

"No problem, Lils."

XxXxX

Severus snarled at the Daily Prophet the next morning. Where was the mention of James Potter's grizzly fate? Where was the murder scene? Where was his revenge?!

"This calls for drastic measures..." he mumbled to himself, putting on a slightly clean traveling cloak and grabbing a handful of floo powder. It was three weeks before the next school year started, the Potters (and Lily) would be buying supplies for James' oldest hell spawn. Throwing the powder into the fireplace, Snape called his destination.

"Diagon Alley!"

XxXxX

James and Lily wandered into Slug and Jigger's apothecary on a beautiful August afternoon, their two children trailing after them.

"Harry, do you have the bags from Madame Malkins?"

"Yes mum."

"Okay, good. James, could you please not giggle at the ingredients this time? You've been doing that since your second year. Probably longer."

"I'll try, Lils, it's not my fault they look goofy."

"Yes, well, as the resident potions mistress I do find it slightly annoying when you and your friends spend all afternoon snickering in my lab."

Snape glowered menacingly through a gap in the shelves. Trust James Bloody Potter to be so juvenile that he was still laughing at such serious matters as potions ingredients at the age of thirty one. When he swept Lily off of her feet, she would never have to deal with that again.

"So, did you find out what's with that golem that showed up yesterday?"

Severus perked up, this could be the analysis of his work he was looking for.

"Yea, it was fairly, if amateurishly, well made. I refined it a lot so it's not nearly as dangerous around running children and you won't stub your toe on it if your walk into it anymore. Charlus is handling the patent registration for me. He thinks that if everything works out, the Potter family will be ushering in a new era of personal assistants, even good enough to replace House Elves."

"Thank Merlin I'm not Lord Potter yet, hope the old man lives forever."

"Mum, Dad! Harry put slugs in my hair!"

"I did not!"

"Did too!"

"James! Deal with your son, I'll pay the man so we can get out of his way." Lily walked right past the aisle that Severus was standing in, fuming.

Those blasted Potters! They were using -his- invention, -his- sweat, and -his- toil to grow their fortune even more!

XxXxX

The Potter family was just entering Florean Fortescue's ice cream parlor when James suddenly stopped.

"What is it, dear?"

"I'm not sure, but I swear I just heard someone yell "Potter!". It sounded like Snape."

Lily sighed exasperatedly "I really wish you would get over that school boy feud, you know that he was just a friend."

James walked up to the counter grumbling, "he was a greasy little slime ball that tried to get us expelled almost every day."


	7. Traitor

Disclaimer: I neither own nor profit from any of the Intellectual Properties represented in this document.

AN: A different take on the whole "Betrayal" thing.

XxXxX

Traitor

XxXxX

Harry Potter angrily paced back and forth in Death's office, trying to both get his thoughts under control and ignore just how weird it was knowing that Death had an office.

"You might want to take a seat, Harry; we have a lot to go over." The anthropomorphic manifestation of death suggested.

Harry threw himself into the almost jarringly comfortable chair in front of her desk with a cry of "fuck!"

"I know it must have come as a shock to you, Harry, but you need to think about how you're going to go about this once I send you back."

"I just can't believe she would do something like that, I trusted her with my very existence!"

Death sighed in part exasperation and part sympathy. "It's always hard to learn that one of your most loved people is secretly plotting to have you killed."

"But as far back as second year!"

"How do you think she learned to brew Polyjuice Potion so easily?" Death asked rhetorically.

Harry sat dumbfounded for a few long minutes, chin on chest, before he looked back up at Death. "She was never my friend, was she?"

Death shook her head sadly. "I'm afraid not, Harry. Hermione only ever had one friend, and that was knowledge. She was completely lost by the time she turned ten."

"What about the Basilisk?"

"Do you really believe that a child would be able to figure something out that the greatest minds in the magical world were stumped by? No, Dumbledore knew what it was, her handlers knew what it was, and the protections in the castle, and Hogwarts himself, kept the students from dying. Myrtle was only killed in that bathroom because Tom was a founder's heir; there was a glitch in the wards that allowed him a little more leeway than anyone else."

"The time turner?"

"She brokered a deal with the Unspeakables, hairs and finger nail clippings from you for their experimentation in exchange for research journals and the time-turner." Death got an amused look on her face. "She didn't even understand what most of those journals said until years later."

"What about the Tri-wizard tournament?"

"You were a huge publicity coup for the Ministry of Magic, she was to do everything in her power in order to keep you in the tournament and alive."

Harry buried his head in his hands and groaned in despair. "Dumbledore's Army?"

"Harry." Death chided him. "She chose the Hog's Head, where it would be much easier to overhear anything you talked about, and there just happens to be a ministry informant getting a drink at the same time as your meeting?" She shook her head. "No, it was all a plot from the beginning."

"Dolohov hitting her with the cutting curse?"

Death snorted. "As if being silenced would really take away enough power from that spell to not slice her in half immediately. No, he never intended to kill her."

"So when did she go over to Voldemort?"

"When she realized that he would be an unending source of knowledge on the Dark Arts. He was immortal, for all intents and purposes, and she was, at her very core, an information addict. Ultimately, feeding her addiction was more important than any ties she may have had to the people around her."

"And sixth year she didn't even try and hide her obstructionism anymore, did she?" Harry asked himself, not really expecting an answer. "All this time, it really looked like Albus was the one manipulating my destiny, steering me towards some nebulous "greater good"."

"Albus Dumbledore is the only reason you lived to see your twelfth birthday." Death interjected placidly. "You never would have survived your first year without the protections given to you by living with your relatives."

"But he was the one that lured Voldemort into the castle in the first place!"

Death grunted in annoyance at her charge. "The stone was never meant to be a lure, it was meant to be safeguarded and nothing more. Hogwarts is an amazing castle. Quirrell was an amazing actor, as well. Albus never suspected a thing, ultimately his nurturing nature and concern for Quirrell's supposed trauma that he suffered while out of country made him overlook some glaringly obvious signs."

Harry looked confused for a moment. "Then how did we make it through the gauntlet?"

Death gave him a patronizing look. "Hogwarts is an amazing castle." She repeated stoically.

Harry sighed. "I would have thought Voldemort taking some of my blood for the ritual in fourth year would have invalidated the protection?"

"Oh, no." Death responded with a smile. "He could touch you, but it pained him greatly to do so. The only thing that ritual accomplished was that it stopped him from turning to ash with skin to skin contact. He was in just as much pain as you, whenever you two were in close proximity, he'd just had decades of mental conditioning in not showing the strain. If the body restoration ritual had worked around the protections, he wouldn't have waited until you turned seventeen to attack you at home."

Harry sighed in exhaustion. "So, back to do it all over again, eh?"

Death sent him a penetrating stare. "With some appropriate alterations, I hope?"

Harry chuckled morosely. "Yea, I'm thinking Hufflepuff."

"That would be a good move for you." Death said, much to his surprise. "The vast majority of public servants and law enforcement officials in Britain are Hufflepuff alumni, and they take care of their own. Go with that."

* * *

AN: A bit of a reaction to all of the Hermione-sue fics swimming around FFN lately. There's been an explosion of them over the last year and a half, and I'm finding myself actually liking Ginny more, even though she is basically a blank slate canonically.


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